


No Fair

by beckzorz (heckofabecca)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Endgame, Team Dynamics, Wanda Maximoff is mentioned but does not appear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 21:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20264875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckofabecca/pseuds/beckzorz
Summary: A quiet night at the compound leads to a game to pass the time. You play to win.





	No Fair

**Author's Note:**

> Written based on a dialogue prompt.

A lazy evening at the compound. Half the team is away, split between charity work, political stuff, family obligations, and actual missions—but given that it’s the coldest week of the year with the remains of a nasty blizzard to boot, it’s pretty quiet even with Sam and Bucky both in the building.

You’d never expected such trouble from Captain America, nor the Winter Soldier. But in the never-ending prank wars that naturally occur when a bunch of high-energy superheroes spend copious amounts of time together, it’s always the Sam-and-Bucky team who do the most devastating work. You’ve yet to see them prank each other. Give each other shit? Absolutely. But words and the occasional punch or kick or chokehold is as far as their back-and-forth griping ever goes.

Admirable, really. If _ you _ were in Sam’s shoes, you’d do just about anything to get Bucky as flustered as he gets whenever someone pulls a good one over on him. Gosh, he’s so _ cute _ when his cheeks go all pink…

You shift in your seat at the end of the couch, ducking your head to hide your own suddenly warm cheeks as Bucky passes by, a fresh bottle of beer in hand. He glances down at you.

And pauses.

“What?” he asks.

“Um.” You swallow and shoot a shy smile up at him. “Just thinking it’s, ah, pretty quiet around here.”

“It’s almost insane how well-behaved you’re all being,” Rhodey remarks. “This is usually about the time someone discovers some fish in their underwear or something.”

“Hey!” Sam snaps. He jabs a finger Rhodey’s way, eyes narrowed. “That was _ one time_.”

You snicker. “That’s what _ you _ think.”

“Oh really?” Sam says.

“Well…”

“Oh god, not the fuckin’ fish thing again,” Bucky groans. He flops down beside you on the couch, close enough that you can feel his body heat. “That shit _ stinks_. Literally and figuratively. Listen—” he turns to you, curling his hand on the back of the couch just by your shoulder, his eyes wide and his face deliciously earnest— “I will actually give you money to never use fish in a prank again.”

You can’t help but grin. If Bucky’s noticed how warm your cheeks are, he doesn’t show it. “And I _ just _ bought that can of tuna, too.” You sigh dramatically. “Oh well. I guess when you ask so nice, I have to accept.” You thrust out your hand. “Pay up, Barnes.”

Bucky’s smiling now too. He shifts, digs his wallet out of his back pocket—god, how nice would it be to do that yourself?—and pulls out two twenties.

“Does this satisfy?” he asks, voice low.

“It’ll do,” you say. You swallow again—your fingers brush his as you accept his gift, and you stuff it in your own back pocket hastily. Bucky heads back to his seat, cracks open his beer with his left thumb, and takes a swig, his bright eyes fixed on your face.

You look away, shaken. Shaken, tingling, _ wanting_.

“It’s almost _ too _ quiet,” Sam muses.

“Yeah, we should do something,” Rhodey says. “There’s four of us…”

“I think Wanda’s around here somewhere,” Bucky pipes up. The burn of his gaze drops from your face, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Oh, fantastic.” Sam grins. “How about we play hide and seek?”

“Excuse me?” you blurt. “That’s going to be insanely boring. This place is big enough for even me to hide effectively for, well, maybe five whole minutes.”

Bucky laughs, loud and clear and bright, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to look at him.

“Fine,” he says, and you can hear his grin. “How about a tracking game? We start in different parts of the compound and track around until we spot other people before they spot us.”

“And people who don’t mind just chilling out in a hiding spot and reading a book can just read, if they want,” Rhodey throws in.

“Sure, whatever, but how do you _ win?_” you ask.

“Winning is overrated,” Sam says sagely.

“You only say that ‘cause I always beat you at cards,” Bucky says, and you finally look at him, grinning. He blinks, cheeks pink, and continues. “I guess, uh, whoever finds the most people wins? And yes, there might be a tie. Think you can handle it?”

“Ha! Yes, I think so.”

“Great,” Sam says. “So, where do we start?”

—

You position yourself in the best starting point. Rhodey’s starting in the rec room, Sam in the garage, Wanda will be in the residential wing, and Bucky’s in the basement commercial-sized kitchen. A ping from FRIDAY signals the start of the game, and you dash off to the right.

You’re less than sixty feet from the room with the security feeds. Amazing, really, that no one seemed to sense what you were up to when you volunteered to start on the roof.

Plus, you had plenty of time to stop by your room.

At the door to surveillance room, you look up and down the corridor. Empty. _ Perfect_. Out come your lockpicks, and more importantly the device—a legacy of Tony Stark’s, may his memory be a blessing—that can crack through the electronic parts of the locked door in seconds. You slip inside and let out a slow breath.

The agent at the desk, Michelle, has her hand over the alarm button. She shakes her head at you.

“You could’ve knocked, y’know,” she says.

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” you point out. You slide into the second chair and watch the screens for your teammates. Yes, there’s Wanda passing through the rec room you’d been hanging out in before, Bucky heading down the hallway from the kitchen to the garage. No evidence of Sam or Rhodey, not yet.

“What’s going on?” Michelle asks. “Are you guys playing hide or seek or something?”

“Or something,” you say. You send a sly smirk her way. “Wanna help me win?”

Michelle rolls her eyes and holds out her hand. “Pay up.”

A beleaguered sigh, and you fork over the forty dollars from Bucky. Michelle knows. She _ always _ knows.

But it’s worth it. Fish _ does _ smell bad, and Michelle hands you an earpiece so she can direct you around.

“It’s like playing a video game,” she declares, grinning up at you. “But my PC can talk back.”

You do an awkward run to the door, mimicking the video games you’ve seen Michelle play.

“At your command,” you intone, and then you’re out the door.

—

Michelle sends you after Bucky first. Because of _ course _ she does.

“You know you appreciate it,” she teases. “I’m amazed you haven’t made a move yet. Ah, go around the other way. Rhodey’s hiding in that room.”

You nod and slip around another way as you head towards the garage. Bucky’s still there, going through the cars one-by-one.

Once you’re out of Rhodey’s earshot, you say, “I don’t know how he can be so methodical for a game like this.”

“You don’t get a reputation like his by not putting in the effort,” Michelle points out. “Besides, you literally broke into the surveillance room. No one else has done that so far.”

“If anyone does, _ please _ push the emergency button. I’m begging you.”

Michelle groans. “You’re relentless.

You’re grinning as you pad silently down the garage stairs—still in your slippers, with the soft soles that are silent on the concrete. And the garage is silent, too. Not that you’d expect to be able to hear _ Bucky _ moving around.

“Four rows to the left,” Michelle murmurs in your ear. “And keep low til then. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

You move quick, stance low, past three rows. Let out your breath silently, wait for a signal.

“Now!” Michelle whispers.

You pop up from behind a red convertible, spot Bucky with his face against the dark glass of the next car over, and whoop with glee.

Bucky spins so fast he nearly trips over his feet. He catches himself on the convertible, tightens his hold—and then he sees it’s you, and his whole body goes lax.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he says. He runs his free hand through his hair, shaking his head with a rueful grin. “You scared the crap outta me.”

“Well, this is a win for me, then!” You lean against the windshield, grinning and unable to stop.

His smile softens as he looks at you. “How the heck did you sneak up on me, anyway?”

“Huh? Oh!” You turn your head so he can see the earpiece tucked in your ear. “I’ve got Michelle on the line.”

“Michelle from security?”

“That’s the one!”

“So you cheated,” Bucky states. He slowly moves around the car, his hand lingering on the doors, the edge of the trunk. You step back as he closes in, heart hammering in your chest.

“No, I improvised. There’s a difference.”

He snorts. “Well, it’s still not what I’d call playing fair.”

“I don’t play fair, Bucky,” you say. You lift your chin, meet his gaze. “I play to win.”

“Well,” he says. He takes one step closer, and you’re caught with a column at your back and Bucky less than a foot away. His lips curve up as he curls his hand around the nape of your neck. “You’ve won _ me _ over.”

“A-ah?” You’d answer, but you’re struck dumb. He’s closer than he’s ever been, and you’re drowning in those sky-blue eyes, falling, falling…

“Hate to break up a tender moment here,” Michelle announces.

Bucky’s eyes widen. From so close, he can hear her no problem. He drags his hand away from your neck, but doesn’t step away. You bite your lip, still frozen in place.

“Sam got bored of hiding,” Michelle goes on. “He’s heading your way.”

Bucky twines his fingers in yours.

“So,” he says. He presses his forehead to yours, breathes you in. “Shall we go win your game and celebrate later?”

You squeeze his hand, the promise of later thick and charged and already tasting delicious.

“_Yes_.”


End file.
